


even if I do I don’t, even if I could I won’t

by suzukiblu



Series: McGenji AU Week [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Jesse McCree, Beta/Omega, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Genji Shimada, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Fisting, Fuck Or Suffer Unspecified Health Consequences, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Genji Shimada, Oral Sex, Pining, Safe Sane and Consensual, it's a gift, yes McCree manages to pine DURING SEX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: “Yeah, you’re hilarious, kid,” Gabe says. “Get back to work. And Shimada, call your heat partner and we’ll see you next week.”Shimada’s shoulders tense. Gabe . . . pauses.“Shimada,” he says slowly. “Pleasetell me you have a heat partner on base.”“I have a heat partner on base,” Shimada lies. Gabe and Jesse both stare at him, then Gabe calls up his file, takes one look at it, and starts cursing.





	even if I do I don’t, even if I could I won’t

**Author's Note:**

> Day five, No Other Solution AU. Time for that sweet, sweet A/B/O, kids.

Jesse catches the unmistakable scent of an omega in heat on his way from the cafeteria to his room, which normally would just be an observable fact. Jesse is smelling a _furious_ omega in heat, though, and several alphas nearby. 

So yeah, that’s a bit more than an observable fact. 

He heads down a couple hallways towards the clashing scents and finds some alphas with stupid looks on their faces who’ve gotten way too close to--

“Jesus Christ, don’t you people wanna _live_?” he asks incredulously, which might just be the only thing that stops Agent Shimada from starting to cut people. He looks about ready to, and Jesse wouldn’t blame him from the way these agents have got him boxed in right now. 

“He’s in heat,” one of the alphas says, like that’s any kind of excuse. Jesse knows omega pheromones are enough to make some alphas stupid, but no stupider than they already are. 

“You’re fucking idiots,” Jesse says. “Back off the man before he’s gotta _make_ you back off.” 

“He needs a _knot_ , not some busybody beta,” the nearest alpha snorts. Shimada’s eyes flare and he grips the shuriken in his fist so hard they _crumple_. Jesse, apparently, is the only one to notice. 

“Goddamn fools,” he says, which is how he gets in a fistfight with six huge alphas and also how Shimada justifiably _stabs_ a few of those huge alphas and they both end up in Gabe’s office covered in blood. 

“I did not need your help,” Shimada says icily. He’s sweating, and still flipping one last shuriken back and forth along his cybernetic fingers. 

“You know all them alphas’ names?” McCree asks, and Shimada frowns. 

“What? No,” he says. 

“Then you needed my help,” McCree says, already typing said names into his phone before he forgets any of them; who knows when Gabe’s showing up. They were Overwatch, not Blackwatch, which means it’s gonna be trouble reporting them. The brass always assumes it was Blackwatch that fucked up. Morrison’s okay, but they go over his head as often as they don’t. 

Shimada glares at him. Gabe shows up before he can get stabbed, though, and immediately proves himself the better alpha than those knotheads in the hall by not even bothering to open a window or turn on the fan. 

“What happened?” he asks. Shimada hisses behind his mask, but doesn’t actually answer. Jesse waits a beat, but isn’t gonna let the idiot hang himself with his own silence. 

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it, boss?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “Some alphas were sniffing ‘round where they weren’t wanted and wouldn’t take the hint.” 

“And involving your weapons?” Gabe raises an eyebrow right back. 

“They hit McCree first,” Shimada says stiffly. 

“And you know, we were a _bit_ outnumbered, boss,” Jesse points out. 

“Yeah, you were,” Gabe sighs, folding his arms. “Look, I’ll take care of this, but next time try to come to me _before_ the bleeding starts.” 

“My favorite time to come,” Jesse says, and gets a dubious look for it. 

“Yeah, you’re hilarious, kid,” Gabe says. “Get back to work. And Shimada, call your heat partner and we’ll see you next week.” 

Shimada’s shoulders tense. Gabe . . . pauses. 

“Shimada,” he says slowly. “ _Please_ tell me you have a heat partner on base.”

“I have a heat partner on base,” Shimada lies. Gabe and Jesse both stare at him, then Gabe calls up his file, takes one look at it, and starts cursing. 

“ _Fucking_ \--you don’t even have a shortlist on here! You don’t even have a _safeword_ on file!” 

“It wasn’t relevant,” Shimada says. 

“Wasn’t--what have you been _doing_ all this time?!” Gabe demands. 

“I’ve never had a heat in this body,” Shimada says stiffly. 

Gabe stares at him. Jesse does too. Well, that’s . . . that’s a mite inconvenient. Especially because he knows for a fact Angela is on a mission, and therefore unavailable to be consulted on the subject. 

“Jesus,” Gabe says, then goes into crisis-handling mode. “Pick somebody to negotiate for you and pick a safeword, and do it _before_ you end up any more compromised than you already are. I’ll get you a list of the alphas on base. Jesse, you’re taking care of him until the negotiator gets here. I’ll be back in five.” 

He leaves, and _definitely_ locks the door. Jesse isn’t surprised; Gabe basically thinks of Blackwatch as pack, and if any other idiots got the idea to start sniffing around . . . 

“Well, that went well,” Jesse says. Shimada says nothing, still sitting stiff as ever. “Who you want for your negotiator?” 

“I don’t need one,” Shimada says. 

“. . . no offense, partner, but you’re heated up enough I smelled you from halfway across the _base_ ,” Jesse says carefully. “You ain’t gonna be in condition to negotiate for yourself much longer.” 

“I don’t want a heat partner,” Shimada says, his pheromones _reeking_ of despair. Jesse nearly falls off his seat, they’re so strong. 

“Are you fucking kidding?” he asks incredulously. Shimada’s miserable enough on a _normal_ day; what’s he gonna be like spending a heat all alone? 

“I do not need _pity_ ,” Shimada spits. “Look at me. What alpha could stand to touch this, much less _knot_ it?” 

“Well, there’s a whole lot to unpack there, darlin’, but ain’t you just a little more worried about not going _batshit_?” Jesse says carefully. Shimada just digs his fingers into his thighs. 

“I will be fine,” he says. 

“You sure about that?” Jesse asks, not believing him for a moment. Shimada is not exactly a picture of mental health. Also, Gabe’s gonna flip his lid if he hears one of his agents is deliberately refusing to take care of themself like this--and since he’s gonna be back in five minutes, he is _definitely_ gonna hear about it. “You ever spent a heat alone before?” 

“Yes,” Shimada lies. For a Blackwatch agent, he’s very bad at that. Then again, it’s not like he’s on tap for undercover work. 

“Yeah, you’re full of shit, partner,” Jesse says. “Gabe’s gonna come back in here and see right through that one.” 

“I do not need _pity_!” Shimada repeats angrily, glaring at him. “And I do not need your assistance, either!” 

“You need _something_ ,” Jesse says. 

“What, one of those idiots back out there’s knots?” Shimada sneers. 

“Literally anyone else’s knot, I’d reckon,” Jesse says. Normally Shimada’d have already cleared out, if he didn’t want to deal with a situation. He’s a bit more patient when it’s Gabe he’s dealing with, but not much. The fact he’s still here implies he probably knows just how full of shit he is too. 

“There’s no one,” Shimada says. 

“Ask Moira. Hell, ask _Gabe_ ,” Jesse says. They’ve both got perfectly good knots and a vested interest in Shimada’s well-being. Well--maybe Gabe more-so than Moira, but still. 

“No,” Shimada says. 

“Why not?” Jesse asks. 

“Reyes can’t see me like that,” Shimada says. “And O’Deorain would use it as an excuse to _examine_ me.” 

“. . . alright, that might be a fair call,” Jesse allows. At least on Moira. But--“You know Gabe don’t think any different of you because you’re an omega. That ain’t gonna change if he helps you out with this.” 

“I know you _think_ that,” Shimada says. “But you don’t know what’s left of me under here.” 

“Enough,” Jesse says immediately, and Shimada sighs. 

“Why aren’t you an alpha, McCree,” Shimada breathes, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “It’d be easy if it was you.” 

“Do you want it to be me?” Jesse asks, trying to stomp down on the part of himself that just jerked to attention at that, i.e., his dick. 

“You’re not an alpha,” Shimada says, shaking his head. 

“Not really an answer, partner,” Jesse says. 

“I don’t want it to be anyone,” Shimada says. “But you haven’t gotten me killed yet.” 

Jesse’s not sure how that’s supposed to translate, to be honest. Does that mean Shimada trusts him to have his back? Not to hurt him? To at least be _accountable_ for hurting him? 

“You really need to pick a negotiator,” he says. Shimada just huffs and looks away, not that he was really looking at him to begin with. Gabe comes back with a pissed-off expression and a datapad full of alphas. 

“We need a proper goddamn database of this shit,” he says, dropping the datapad in Shimada’s lap. Shimada catches it, but as far as McCree can tell that’s only to keep it from falling to the floor. “You picked your negotiator yet?” 

“I don’t need--” Shimada starts, and Gabe cuts him off with a _look_. 

“You need one assigned? No problem,” he says, then gestures at the datapad. “Get me a shortlist of alphas and I’ll grab the first one that can make it. Jesse, consider your afternoon cleared.” 

“Gotcha, boss,” Jesse says. “But, uh . . .” 

“But what?” Gabe demands, immediately zeroing in on him with all the overprotectiveness an alpha can muster for an unmated omega in their pack. Which is a _lot_ , especially coming from a guy as intense as Gabe. “You got something more important to do than negotiate on your squadmate’s behalf?” 

“Me,” Shimada says, dropping the alpha list on Gabe’s desk. “I want McCree. Not an alpha.” 

“Oh.” Gabe relaxes immediately, settling back on his heels, then frowns at Shimada. “I don’t care if it’s Jesse, you still need a negotiator.” 

“He’s already here,” Shimada says. “Anybody else isn’t going to get me any clearer-minded than I already am.” 

“Then a damn _mediator_ ,” Gabe says in exasperation. “You’re not getting out of _some_ kind of supervision, Genji, especially after neglecting filling out your heat protocols all this time.” 

“Fine,” Shimada mutters with a scowl. “Then you do it. I don’t want--just, you do it.” 

“Not much of a traditionalist, are you,” Jesse says wryly. In a normal situation, it’d be _him_ negotiating or mediating and Gabe doing the heat partnering. It’s not like a beta can really mate an omega, after all. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Shimada snaps. 

“Alright then.” Gabe folds his arms with a sigh. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’re doing. Jesse? You good with that?” 

“Yeah, boss,” Jesse agrees hopefully not _too_ quickly. In his defense, Shimada’s--well, _Shimada_. “What’s your safeword?” 

“I don’t have one,” Shimada says. 

“What, you’ve _never_ used a safeword?” Gabe snorts. Shimada digs his fingers into his thighs again. “Oh-- _goddammit_ , kid, who raised you? Never mind, just pick something. Anything’ll do.” 

“I don’t need it,” Shimada says. 

“Maybe not, but _I’d_ sure as shit like one,” Jesse says, shoving his hat back on his head. “Jesus, Shimada, it’s your first heat in how long? You don’t know _how_ it’s gonna go.” 

“Fine.” Shimada glares at him. “Then you come up with one.” 

“I use ‘rattler’,” Jesse says. Shimada looks a little surprised, like he hadn’t expected him to have an answer. To be fair, Jesse didn’t exactly use safewords either, back in his own misspent youth. He’d been lucky he was a beta. Omegas and alphas had both had a harder time in Deadlock, if in different ways. 

“Rattler. Fine,” Shimada says impatiently. “Can we go now?” 

“You’re getting SSC sex ed when all this is over,” Gabe warns him. “Any hard nos?” 

“No,” Shimada says. 

“Jesus,” Jesse says. Shimada is either a trip or _really_ bad at negotiating. Maybe both. “No bloodplay or any other weird shit with bodily fluids and the like. No serious injuries, no humiliation. I don’t want tied up.” 

“Why would I tie you up for heat sex?” Shimada says, giving him a strange look. 

“The world is a mysterious and fascinating place, darlin’,” Jesse says. 

“Jesse . . .” Gabe says, already looking physically pained. 

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Jesse swears immediately, holding up his hands. The fact of the matter is that no matter what Shimada _says_ , he _is_ already pretty heated up and who knows what he might say different if he weren’t. The fact he’s said anything at all might just be because of that, frankly. 

“You’d damn well better,” Gabe says. “And Genji, if I hear you’ve so much as made Jesse _uncomfortable_ you’re in just as much shit, got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” Shimada says, looking genuinely baffled. It’s not an expression Jesse’s seen on his face before. 

“Any concerns?” Gabe looks from one of them to the other. Jesse shakes his head; Shimada keeps looking baffled, but does the same. “Alright, then. Don’t fuck each other up.” 

“Thank you for your blessing,” Jesse drawls, unable to resist the urge to smirk at him. 

“So we can go now?” Shimada asks. 

“Y--” is all Gabe gets out before Shimada’s on his feet and headed for the door. Gabe sighs, then raises his eyebrows at Jesse, who shrugs in reply and then gets up to follow Shimada. Presumably he’s headed somewhere private, and he _has_ been suffering stewing in his own heat pheromones for a while. 

A couple alphas eye them on their way--a couple alphas _laugh_ at them on their way, which: rude--and a few omegas spot them and start tittering, so it’s guaranteed their very subtle arrangement is gonna be all over the base before they’re even done fucking. Oh, well; Jesse didn’t join Blackwatch expecting much secrecy in his life, and Shimada don’t seem to be paying them any mind, so who cares? 

Shimada leads the way, and Jesse follows him to his bunk. Shimada opens the door, and McCree has to repress a wince. He’s never seen such a bare room, much less such a bare _omega’s_ room. There’s nothing comfortable, nothing decorative, nothing even to fucking _nest_ with. 

Jesus. 

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Jesse says, tipping his hat. Shimada doesn’t seem very concerned with the niceties, but he’s intending to be on his best behavior--and not just because Gabe’ll throw him to the wolves if he finds out he wasn’t. 

“Call it what you like,” Shimada says. He’s fiddling with something on his stomach, and there’s a few clicking sounds coming from whatever it is. Jesse silently hopes it’s not a bomb, though he might not blame Shimada if it were. 

“Where do you want me?” he asks. 

“The bed,” Shimada says, giving him a look that very clearly says _“obviously”_. Jesse doesn’t even bother taking his hat off, just sits down on the sad, bare mattress. It looks like no one even lives here. If he hadn’t seen Shimada come in here before, he might think the guy’d just brought him to an empty room. 

Shimada’s stomach clicks again, and he removes the plate that covers his crotch and drops it on the floor. McCree gets a very quick glimpse of a very pretty silicone cock but can’t even blink before the other’s on his knees and grabbing for his belt buckle. 

“Well, if you want it like that,” he says, leaning back on his hands as Shimada unfastens his pants and pulls out his admittedly already half-hard cock. Alright, so Shimada’s not the type for foreplay. At _all_. He’s not gonna pretend like he wasn’t already turned on just from thinking about this. 

“Don’t look at me,” Shimada says, reaching up to the corner of his mask. Jesse would say something, but decides on the better part of valor and tips his head back to look at the ceiling, tugging his hat down over his eyes as he does. Being effectively blindfolded isn’t his _favorite_ thing in the bedroom, but it’s better than, say, being tied up. 

Something clicks, and fingers wrap around his cock. 

“Condoms?” Jesse thinks to ask, because yeah, Shimada does not strike him as the responsible type. 

“I don’t have any,” Shimada says, which is the least surprising thing Jesse’s heard so far. 

“Gotta couple in my wallet,” he says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his pockets before pulling it out. “If you don’t mind, and all.” 

“I can’t get pregnant,” Shimada says in a very, very neutral voice. Jesse decides to just not touch that one, _ever_. 

“STIs,” he says. “I haven’t been tested for a couple months, myself.” 

“I can’t get those either,” Shimada says. Jesse is _really_ starting to wonder how the guy can even get heated up at all, but he’s not gonna ask. 

“Then let’s just avoid making a mess,” he says. Shimada sighs, but takes the wallet from him. 

“Fine,” he says. With another partner, Jesse’d be more bothered, but with Shimada he’s mostly just wondering if the guy’s _ever_ done _anything_ smart in the bedroom. He knows how to put a condom on a beta, at least, which is all that really matters. 

He also knows how to suck a beta’s cock, which Jesse learns _real_ quick. 

“Holy _hell_ ,” he groans, barely resisting the urge to grab the back of the other’s head. For one, Shimada hasn’t said he could; for another, he might fuck up some important wires or something. He keeps a hand on the bed and a hand on his hat and Shimada swallows him down and _sucks_ like it’s going out of style. Jesse curses, because it’s too much too quick, and Shimada lets him slide out of his mouth just to drag his tongue up the underside of his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base to squeeze. 

It feels . . . strange. He’s using his flesh and blood hand, but his _mouth_ feels . . . 

It’s definitely not a _bad_ strange, though, and Jesse’s never been dumb enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. There’s a reason Shimada didn’t want him looking at his face and at least part of that reason probably involves why his mouth feels as much like silicone as flesh. Considering how hypersensitive to rejection the average omega gets in heat, he gets why Shimada would be paranoid. 

Shimada could have no prosthetics at all or be a full-on Omnic and Jesse’s pretty sure his dick would still be into him, but that’s a whole ‘nother problem. 

“You really get right down to business, don’t you, darlin’?” he asks breathlessly, and Shimada squeezes his cock again. 

“You can’t fuck me if you’re not hard,” he says. 

“That is _not_ gonna be a problem,” Jesse promises. 

“No, it’s not,” Shimada agrees, pushing his thumb up under the head of his dick. Jesse bites back a curse, leaning back a little heavier on his hand. 

“God damn, baby,” he says, and Shimada swallows him down again. Jesse might rather have started with a little more mood-setting, but he’s not gonna deny Shimada knows what he’s doing with his mouth. It’s a little strange to come into an omega’s den to heat-partner them and be the one getting all the attention, though. “You gonna let me touch you?” 

“No,” Shimada says, giving his cock a last stroke before climbing into his lap. Jesse resists the impulse to try putting a hand on his hip, since even if he guessed right Shimada just made it clear he doesn’t want the contact. 

“Don’t see how I’m supposed to help you out like this,” he says. 

“I can help myself just fine,” Shimada says, then sits down on Jesse’s cock without even the _slightest_ bit of preamble, a barely-slick-enough vise immediately pushed down around him. 

“Hey, don’t _hurt_ yourself!” Jesse protests instinctively past a gasp, jerking in surprise, and Shimada snorts at him. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” he says. Jesse hears a click, and then Shimada tips his hat back off his eyes. He’s wearing the mask again. “You can look now.” 

“Thank you kindly,” Jesse manages, fingers digging into the mattress as Shimada flexes around him. Shimada’s quite a sight, even as hidden-away as he actually is. His face is flushed, and Jesse can see him starting to sweat. Otherwise, though, he looks the same as always--the same angry, bitter omega he’s known all this time, wearing all the same armor and the exact same look in his eyes. 

It’d be reassuring, if it weren’t depressing. 

“Alright there?” he asks, and Shimada snorts again. He doesn’t feel quite . . . he’s not quite _flesh_ on the inside, Jesse’s starting to realize; initially he hadn’t noticed, but it’s definitely a different feeling. He’s soft and tight, though, and the little rocking thrusts of his hips he’s making are fucking distracting. 

“You’re big for a beta,” Shimada observes distractedly. He’s already shuddering, and Jesse wonders how sensitive he actually is. Angela’s a marvel, but she’s only human. Shimada’s reacting to _something_ , though. 

“Don’t gotta flatter me none, darlin’, you’ve already got me in bed,” Jesse says, flashing him a quick grin and getting a dubious look in return. 

“Just do your job,” Shimada orders impatiently. 

“Though you didn’t want me to touch you,” Jesse reminds him with a wry smirk, and Shimada pushes him over with a scowl, knocking his hat off in the process. Jesse catches his forearms and gives them a light little squeeze, testing the waters, and Shimada leans into him, dropping more of his weight into his lap. Jesse hisses and rolls his hips up, and Shimada _groans_. “Oh, ain’t you a goddamn _symphony_.” 

“Like you ever listen to symphonies,” Shimada grunts, rocking his own hips down to meet him. _“Oh--”_

“Listening to one right now, sweetheart,” Jesse says, grinning up at him. Shimada looks unimpressed, but he does this particular little _twist_ with his hips and god _damn_ , that was definitely a reward. 

It’s still a little awkward, but it still feels good, and apparently it’s what Shimada needs, so Jesse’s not gonna complain about it. He squeezes the other’s arms again, then slides his hands up to his wrists so he can brush his thumbs against the sensitive scent glands in--well, _one_ of Shimada’s wrists. He does the gesture on both anyway, just in case it still feels good. Shimada hisses, his pheromones flaring sweetly, and Jesse turns his head to press a kiss to the inside of his flesh and blood wrist. 

Shimada smells _good_ , spicysweet and warm, and he makes a sound that has Jesse licking his lips. 

“Lemme touch you?” he asks, leaning up a bit. 

“You’re _touching_ me,” Shimada pants, which Jesse takes as permission. He grabs Shimada’s hips and rolls them over, and Shimada lets him do it but lets out a shocky little sound all the same, like Jesse _hadn’t_ telegraphed the move from a mile away. Admittedly, that might have more to do with the new angle. 

Jesse takes the chance to snap his hips in and Shimada _curses_ , slamming his head back against the mattress. That seems like a good enough reason to do it again, so he does, and actually why should he _stop_ \--

“McCree--McCree, McCree, _fuck_ , McCree!” Shimada snarls, clawing painfully at his back. Jesse’d protest, but Shimada feels so goddamn _good_ he doesn’t goddamn care. He’s wetter now, easier to move inside of, and Jesse takes full advantage of that fact to fuck him harder. He doesn’t have an alpha’s cock or pheromones, but this ain’t the first time he’s bedded an omega in heat; he knows what to expect. 

“That good for you, darlin’, that what you want?” he manages to grunt out, keeping one hand on the other’s hip and bracing the other against the wall for leverage. 

_“Harder!”_ Shimada cries. Jesse complies, like a gentleman. Shimada falls apart immediately, cursing and moaning and clawing, and Jesse slips a hand between them to get his fingers on that pretty little cock and only has to stroke it twice before he’s got a mess of an omega coming underneath him with an unholy _wail_. 

Good things the bunks are all soundproofed. 

“Ain’t you a sight,” he says breathlessly, already knowing his cock isn’t going to be enough to satisfy an omega in heat. Shimada needs a knot, or the closest approximation to one available. Until then--

Shimada _whines_ , thrashing restlessly, and Jesse slips out of him. The noise Shimada makes at _that_ is enough to make him feel guilty for not having a real knot. But all his toys are back in his den, of course, and there’s obviously nothing in Shimada’s bare excuse for one. 

Still, there’s things to do in this situation. 

“Hang on, darlin’, I got you,” Jesse reassures him, ignoring his painfully hard dick in favor of slipping a few fingers into Shimada. He’s all soft and giving silicone down here, and Jesse’s fingers fit easily, with hardly any effort to the stretch. One benefit to artificial body parts, Jesse supposes. It hardly takes any time at all before he’s tucking his thumb into his palm and working his hand into the other. He can’t knot him like an alpha would, but heat can’t really tell the difference as long as it gets _something_ to lock. 

_“Big,”_ Shimada gasps, his chest heaving and head knocking back. Jesse drops a kiss against his armored stomach. 

“Big enough?” he asks. 

“McCree,” Shimada whines senselessly, his body squeezing vise-tight around Jesse’s hand and making his dick _extremely_ jealous. Shimada’s eyes are unfocused and his pheromones are all over the place, and Jesse wants to scent-mark him every place he can reach. That’s a little too intimate, though, so he restrains himself to what he’s already doing and grabs his own dick to give himself a little relief. Shimada held out for a _while_ , but it’s clear that with the illusion of a knot in place, heat’s finally getting the better of him. 

“I got you, partner,” Jesse promises roughly, and Shimada squeezes tighter around his fist and _squirms_ on it. 

“Big,” he pants again, which--fair. A fist is definitely bigger than a knot, and if Shimada hasn’t had a heat since he was rebuilt . . . 

“This your first time taking anything like this, darlin’?” Jesse belatedly thinks to ask, and Shimada pants harder. 

“Yes,” he says. That shouldn’t _do_ something for Jesse, but it definitely does. Helping Shimada figure out what feels good in his new body . . . yeah, it does something for him. Something and a _half_. 

“Feels alright?” he asks, carefully twisting his hand inside the other and getting a series of breathless noises for it. 

“It’s _big_ ,” Shimada moans, pushing into him. 

Well, that answers that, Jesse figures. 

“You’re doing real good,” he says, although Shimada might be a little too far gone to properly process it. “Real impressed, sweetheart, you take me so easy.” 

“McCree,” Shimada says, which might be an answer but probably isn’t. “McCree, McCree, _McCree_ \--” 

Definitely not an answer. 

“Attaboy,” Jesse croons past Shimada’s chanting of his name, flexing his fist inside the other. Shimada starts shaking, clawing at his back again and still saying his name over and over. Jesse could get used to this real quick, which is why he definitely needs to not indulge it. Shimada’s a fucking _treat_ of an omega who’s got miles of bloody vengeance to take, and he don’t need a squadmate sniffing around getting in his way, especially not a _beta_ one. 

Although proper mating material or not, Jesse’s not going to pretend he isn’t damn glad Shimada picked him for his heat partner. 

He gets Shimada coming again and leaves his hand in him to simulate a knot, kissing up his stomach because even if it’s armored, so what? Shimada’s shaking knees squeeze his shoulders and he presses a kiss there too, and a few more praises while he’s at it. If that’s just because Shimada’s in no condition to tell him to shut up, well . . . that’s between him and Shimada, ain’t it. 

After the aftershocks finish shaking through him, Shimada goes limp against the bed and closes his eyes. Jesse reclaims his hand and sits down on the edge of the mattress so he can return some attention to his poor neglected dick, which really _should’ve_ gone soft after all that but really, really did not. Ain’t his fault Shimada’s such an experience. 

He gets two strokes in before Shimada opens his eyes again and starts _watching_ him, which guarantees he don’t make it past the next two. He comes, groaning, and Shimada keeps watching and reaches down between his thighs and starts fucking _touching_ himself. 

“Oh, that ain’t fair,” Jesse breathes. Shimada just pulls a knee up and pushes another finger inside himself with this faint little frown, like he’s doing something totally new. 

This might be new, Jesse recognizes, and then decides to make it easy for him and leans over to eat him out. 

Shimada makes the _best_ noises. So good it sort of hurts to hear. Really, Jesse’s happy to help, but it’s killing him a little. 

“You come real pretty, Shimada,” he says after he’s done, straightening up and licking his lips clean. Shimada groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Told you I don’t need _pity_ ,” he says. 

“It really ain’t pity,” Jesse says, doing his level best to ignore his dick, which is already feeling a little too eager for how recently he’s come. “I don’t know how you used to look, but I think you’re goddamn _striking_.” 

“I’m not even human anymore,” Shimada says, which is a little heavy for what Jesse signed up for, but not exactly a shock to hear out of him. Frankly Jesse was surprised they didn’t have to go through this part _first_. 

“Human enough,” he says, and Shimada makes a derisive noise and turns away from him. Jesse stretches out on the bed behind him and very carefully drapes an arm over his side. Shimada doesn’t stab him, so that’s probably a good sign. Not an actively bad one, at least. 

“Why aren’t you an alpha,” Shimada says resignedly, not looking back at him. 

“I don’t know, partner, I thought we did alright,” Jesse says wryly. He’s not really sure how else to take that. 

“That’s not what I mean.” Shimada puts a hand on the back of his neck--the place where a mating bite might go, if the back of Shimada’s neck wasn’t covered in armor and possibly more metal than flesh. Jesse . . . blinks. 

“What’d you mean, then?” he asks slowly, settling his hand on the other’s hip. 

“Nothing,” Shimada says, turning his face towards the mattress. “Forget it.” 

Jesse thinks he could live a hundred years and not forget a _damn_ thing about today. 

“Okay,” he says anyway, because that’s what Shimada wants him to do.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


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